"Mr. ” A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. ‘Point it at me. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd.
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